This is War
by PuppetxxMaster
Summary: Axel and Demyx's others are thrown into a world of hurt and pain. One, a senior officer, the other a new soldier. This is a story of friendship blooming into love... But how long can love last in a war?
1. Chapter 1: Attention

"Atten_tion_."

He looked up and saluted someone; unfortunately it was a person he could not see. He figured it was another one of those nasty generals he'd come to meet over time. He had joined the army two weeks ago. Today he was being shipped out to war.

As the angry man talked on and on about whatever slipping the word fuck in every chance he got, the new soldier dared to look around at the others. He noted that most of their heads were shaved, in fact all except for his own. Yet again, that was the deal he had made with his father: he would join the army if he didn't have to shave his head. He made that deal at age six. Yet after his father had died, he still followed through. So did the army.

He looked back up at the sky with a small frown and noted that helicopters were coming in from all angles to take him and his comrades away. He figured to somewhere farther out into the desert because the hell hole that he'd been thrown into just wasn't enough. Noting and figuring, that was what he was good at. Paying attention and guessing, most of the time guessing right. That was why he was there, wasn't it?

He heard the rest of the soldiers give their standard 'yes sir!' and he was startled out of his thoughts. The next thing he knew, a tall lanky man no more than three years older, he guessed, was standing before him.

"You got anything you want t' say, _private_?"

The soldier dared to look away from the sky and up at the man. The man also didn't have his head shaved, but instead a wild head of red hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. He had the greenest eyes on the earth, greener than any leaf or emerald he'd ever seen. He couldn't help but gulp as the fair skinned man gave a smirk that would have easily made any girl faint. But he was a man.

"N-no."

"N-no _what_," said the man pointedly, mocking the soldier's stutter.

He closed his eyes. "No _sir_."

"What's your name, private?"

"Finn, sir. E-edmy Finn."

"Well, Finn, I don't give a rat's ass as to what your first name is. Now get you and your sorry-ass David Bowie haircut into that chopper before I _make_ you. Is that clear?"

He sighed. Always making friends… "Yes," he said quietly. "Yes sir."

"Now, we'll be landing at base first. There you'll get your living arrangements. Luckily we're two men to a bunk—recently we got a shit load of money so it'll be pretty spacious. Get to know the man you're with, he might save your life someday."

Edmy rolled his eyes as the general prattled on and on about something or other. He was a big man, probably weighing two-hundred pounds. He was tall, about six and a half feet. He had arms the size of pillars and legs that probably _were_ pillars. His shaved head and scar going across his face gave him a tough, mean look and Edmy couldn't help but respect him. He must have really been something… But then something went wrong and he was stuck with them.

He fiddled with one of the straps on his uniform, frowning as it wouldn't pull any tighter. He wasn't exactly a wimpy, but he didn't have the army kind of muscle. He had lean muscle, the kind that really didn't show and didn't help being the skinniest white guy on the helicopter. He heard bits and pieces from the speech that mattered like when you could get food, what time you had to call relatives, and who you shouldn't bother. One part in particular caught his attention, though.

"You will all be bunked with a senior. Any questions that aren't pertaining to what I just told you, ask them."

Senior? As in someone who'd toured already? He heaved a sigh of relief and smiled in a very small, secretive way. At least he'd have someone to talk to that understood what was going on. He hated not knowing things, and he figured that his bunkmate would be his sole source of information about daily army life. Maybe this would be good…

But how very, very wrong he was.

"Finn, you're with Johnson. Number six."  
He looked warily from the helicopter to the small hut with the number six crudely painted on the door in white. It was old and the paint was chipped (not to mention a ghastly shade of beige that looked like it might have at some time matched the color of the sand) and the place looked like something he might find in a war zone. _Suck it up_, he though angrily. He was in the army now: he could do this.

He opened the door and was greeted by the gut-wrenching smell of alcohol (not allowed), cigarettes (only on your own time), and… Well, he didn't want to think about it. He flipped a switch on a small lamp in an attempt to see where he was going. It was then that he got a good look at the musty old room. It had two beds that sheets lazily thrown on with a single, flat pillow, a large dresser with clothes falling out of the drawers, and what he supposed was an entertainment center which had a small, old looking radio which he doubted worked and books galore. He sat on the bed closest to the door and sighed.

"Might as well look around…" He trailed off and looked at the bed next to him. The wall above the headboard was probably dilapidated and crumbling, but one couldn't have guessed if they didn't know where they were. The wall was covered with postcards running as wide as the bed and as high as the ceiling. Some were flipped to the picture, others to the writing on it. He looked to the desk that had the small lamp on it and saw a cross on the wall with the words 'never forget' printed neatly under it. He saw no paper or pens on the desk, only a bible opened to some prayer he hadn't bothered to memorize. He wasn't much of a religious kind of guy.

Edmy looked at the other books on the self. Most of them were classics like 'Moby Dick' or 'Black Beauty'. He rolled his eyes and kept on reading the titles until he came to a few he didn't know, all by the same person. Paulo Coelho, a man he'd never heard of until then. He looked at the leather bound books and read each title carefully, but his eyes landed on the one that looked the most battered. It was titled simply, 'The Alchemist'. He leaned forward and carefully pulled it out; almost afraid it would turn into dust and blow away. He sat cross-legged on the bed and opened the book, skipping the title page and such until he got to the page that read 'Chapter One'. He began reading quietly, not caring that he was supposed to be unpacking what little belongings he had.

"That one's my favorite."

That voice. No, no way in _hell_ was it that voice. Slowly, with the courage of a mouse, he looked up to see the man from earlier. Again, he had that killer smirk and lightly amused eyes. Not quite amused though—more like he was watching some kind of kid's movie that was incredibly boring, but amused him because it was so childish and ridiculous. Instantly Edmy felt his cheeks burn. Trying to stay cool, he decided to strike up a conversation.

"Y-you must be Johnson."

"Do you _have_ to stutter every time to talk to me?"

"I-"

"No, you don't." Johnson frowned and opened a window that Edmy had failed to notice earlier. "It's annoying as hell when you do that. So stop it."

He paused, looking from the book to the man at the window. The way the light came in, the man's frown looked more artistic than it should have. His lips were soft-looking and pink, his eyes were an even more intense color of green than before, and his lightly tanned skin looked as though it were made of porcelain. Despite his delicate features, though, he still had a strong look about his angular face. Like he could kill anyone if he had enough meaning to.  
Embarrassed, he looked back to the book. "So, we're bunkmates?" It seemed like the stupidest thing to ever come out of his mouth, but he couldn't help it. Word vomit.

"'Less you just got a crush on me, I figure so." He let out a small chuckle and walked to his bed and sat, looking at the postcards on the wall.  
"What?"

This time he laughed, and his laugh was like music. Edmy blushed even more and buried his face in the book. "It's a joke—you know what humor is, right?"

"Of course I do," he answered moodily. He closed the book and put it back down on the bookshelf.

"I'd suggest you sleep a bit a 'fore dinner. Get adjusted to the time, and all." He stood and walked to the door. He paused, kissed his middle and index finger, and then placed the two on the cross. "See you at supper, blondey."

Edmy sighed and fell back on the bed. "Fuck."


	2. Chapter 2: Men

"S-stop," he cried, but he knew no one could hear him. They were out too far, no one was awake—he couldn't do anything.

He wasn't sure why this was necessary. Thinking back on the events that had happened that evening, he hadn't done anything _wrong_. Well, no, that was a lie. He did something wrong, but he didn't think that this was a just punishment. He only laid there, recounting what happened in his head.

He woke up an hour later with a note on the desk that read 'dinner – 1800 hours, table farthest from the others'. He figured it was _him_ again and rolled his eyes. He didn't mean to, but he thought back to the window and how he looked. The more he thought it over in his bed, reflecting on how his roommate looked. He thought and thought… And came to a sort of shocking conclusion. He looked… Sad. And hopeful.

He sat up and swung his legs over the bed, noting that his clothes were on the floor, neatly folded. He froze. He had gone to bed naked due to the heat, but… His clothes were never folded. He felt his cheeks go red as he put two and two together. _He_ had been in there, and _he_ had seen Edmy naked. Asleep. And folded his clothes.

Quickly dressing, he burst through the door into a small room with a sad looking shower and a grimy looking sink and toilet. He splashed water on his face and looked at the clock that was kept in all of the rooms. He turned off the water for a moment and stared. He had slept four hours… It was almost six. He ran out once more, slid into his boots, and began sprinting to the picnic tables where he guessed they served the meals.

He looked around and found the one table that was farthest away from all the others… Or at least he thought it was a table. It was a long board on four planks with crates placed around it. He had a feeling that it was fitting for the people that sat there and decided he'd just hide amongst the others. The guy with the scar across his face looked nice…

He stood in the line of people receiving trays of food that look about as appetizing as the sand that surrounded him. He took the tray regardless and looked around to a place to sit. It was like high school all over again—he could even name the tables by clique. The two closest to him were the big guys, the tough ones who've dreamed of being in the army since they were kids. They were the jocks. The table behind that was the table for the serious men: generals, base commanders, so on and so forth. They were the people you just don't mess with. Then there were the geeks, the weak ones, the stupid ones, and those who just kept to themselves. He glanced back at where he was invited to. He figured they were the Populars.

He began walking to what he labeled as the weak table with a sort of fresh smile on his face. Maybe it wasn't too late to bond with some of the other—

"About time. I thought you'd never wake up."

_Motherfuck._ He was almost there, too!

"Uh, yeah, jetlag." He glanced over his shoulder at the red head that held a tray similar to his own. He couldn't help but feel a little nervous and out of place. He wasn't sure _why_, but he felt the need to fill the silence. "But I'm up."

"I can see that," Johnson responded with his smirk. It was as though he had his own special way of smirking that only he could master. Said form of smirk would be the greatest weapon known to mankind in that it could seduce even the most heterosexual man. He'd do some research into the matter later.

"Anyway… I'll see you back at the bunk." Edmy made an attempt to move away with his pride, but instead was easily spun around by the taller male.

"What, you're gonna reject an invitation from your superior day one? Now that's just rude." He had a fake frown that was accompanied by a pitiful puppy face. "Come on, squirt, you're sitting with me. Think of it as bonding between bunkmates." Johnson wrapped an arm around Edmy's shoulders and practically dragged him to the table with a triumphant smile.

Meantime, Edmy was frozen stiff. He automatically moved his legs, but his mind was in panic mode. Defying his roommate meant that he'd be in serious trouble and would probably have to watch his back. Not to mention that if he got off on the wrong foot with his senior, who was he going to ask questions? He wouldn't get anywhere. With a worried frown, he went through the motions and sat on the crate next to the red head. He was so very screwed.

He looked around the table and made note of who was obviously used to sitting there and who was brought along as a joke. Next to every senior sat their new bunkmate, and each bunkmate looked as frightened and as worried as he. That gave him a little relief, but nothing more. Starting on his immediate right, there was a tan man with light blond fuzz on the top of his head, then a frail looking boy who had dark gray-ish hair that was neatly cropped, next a strong looking man who like Johnson had long pulled back—but his hair was dyed _pink_. He couldn't wrap his mind around why he still had it, but he decided not to ask. It then occurred to him that he didn't know why Johnson had his hair either. He'd ask later. After the strange man with pink hair, there sat a small blond boy with a moody look and big, blue eyes. His hair was short and spiked, but he didn't look very happy about it.

The man with the pink hair was first to speak. "So, looks like we've got the runts…" He trailed off and stared down at Edmy with a sort of smile. His voice was smooth, but not in a good way—like he was going to kill you in your sleep kind of way.

"Oh, maybe they're actually some good this year." The man with blond fuzz shrugged. He talked in a sort of pert British accent. Everything he said sounded like an insult, even though he was defending the three boys at the table.

"Figure we get acquainted if we're all going to be eating together for such a long time." Johnson smirked, looking over at the man with blond fuzz. The blond man sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. Corporal Rolud Kings, Vermont." He nudged the boy beside him who had been poking at the slop with his fork. The boy looked up sheepishly and quickly mumbled "Ienzo", then continuing to play with his food. Then Rolud let out a pompous laugh. "For those of you without supersonic hearing, his name is Ienzo." Ienzo seemed consumed in playing with his food, so nothing more was said about him.

Edmy's focus went to the man with pink hair whose focus was creepily on Edmy. He shrank back a little as he looked down at his food, also. He could feel each word falling on him, though, as the man spoke.

"You can all just call me _Ray_." He smiled in what Edmy guessed was supposed to be an enticing way, but for him it was just the creepiest thing he'd ever seen. He looked up at the last one with a hint of curiosity. The blond boy was staring at Ray with his eyes _screaming_ murder.

"Sora."

There was an awkward silence following as the blond moodily stared at Johnson. Edmy could've sworn he saw his expression chance once to that of interest, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. He only shrugged and looked up at his bunkmate. He wondered what his name was… Even though they weren't on a first name basis.

Again, Johnson had that killer smirk of his. "Sergeant Lea Johnson, Pennsylvania." He chuckled lightly, looking down at the three boys. "Lea to you lot." He scooped up some of the slop and ate it happily as if it was homemade pie.

Then, it came to Edmy. He blushed and looked up at the rest of the people, who seemed to all be paying attention at this point. Even Ienzo. He blushed and came with the brilliant response of "uh". He felt a clap on the back from Rolud and banged his chest on the table. He had a small coughing fit as Rolud spewed some British encouragement. When he recovered, he sat up and looked ashamed. "Edmy. Edmy Finn." He frowned and looked down at his plate. Now he understood why Ienzo wouldn't look up.

His name was received with laughter from all, except Lea. Lea frowned and looked at the others. "I think it's perfectly normal." The laughter stopped suddenly and was replaced with an awkward silence.

Time seemed to trickle like the grains of sand in an hour glass, except more than an hour seemed to pass in those tiny two minutes. After that time, Edmy stood with his tray. "I'm tired." He walked to the nearest bit and dumped everything in, leaving the tray on the counter. He moved with sudden grace and speed to the bunk. He wasn't sure why he was so embarrassed, but something about it just seemed terrible. Not the laughing… But Lea defending him. He felt vulnerable, like needed the help. It didn't feel safe.

He hurled himself onto the bed and laid there for a while, watching the sun go down. What the hell was wrong with him? It was his first day and he'd already messed up majorly. Running only made it worse. He sat up and undressed again, then laying down in his bed and pulling the covers on. Wouldn't make that mistake again… He curled up in the bed, just thinking… And thinking…

"You sleep like a sloth, y'know that?"

He sat straight up in his bed, staring into the darkness from which the voice came. He felt himself sweating in the desert heat, his hair plastered to his head. He looked right and left, his eyes finally adjusting to the darkness. He panted for a moment, and then hung his head. "Yeah. I know."

"Wanna talk?"

And then the single word he would regret all night. "Sure."

He got up, threw on his pants and walked out the door. He looked up to see Lea, but instead saw something else. He saw pink, then black.

When the bag was pulled off of his head, he had a black eye and a badly bruised abdomen. He figured two people: two very drunk people. He knew that it was Lea's voice at first, but Lea… He wasn't there. He was gone.


End file.
